


Windowsill

by abluecanarylite



Category: Joan of Arcadia
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-14
Updated: 2004-06-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 10:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1302217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abluecanarylite/pseuds/abluecanarylite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief look at Joan and Grace's friendship during Winter Break in Arcadia. Spoilers for season 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Windowsill

**Author's Note:**

> An old one from back in 2004.

"Windowsill"

by: Erin (thehush)

  
Looking out over Arcadia, one could see how normal it all seemed. You couldn’t see the broken families, the ignored kids, the mangled lives. All you could see was snow and houses and quaint white churches scattered in every direction. Little kids were laughing and screaming, throwing snowballs at one another in the park just a ways from her house. Someone was scrapping snow out of their driveway. Grace was walking down the street-  
  
Joan leaned forward, finding that indeed, the tomboy was making her way up to her house. “Polk!”  
  
The girl looked up and stopped at the edge of the yard. “Girardi? What the hell are you doing up there? You wanna fall off and crack your skull?”  
  
“Oh, this coming from misses ‘lets make dry-ice bombs and throw them in Price’s office before we leave’.” Joan motioned toward her window. “Want me to come down?”  
  
Grace waved her off. “Nah, I can handle your mom.”  
  
With a shrug, Joan climbed back to her window anyway, the tiny bits of ice and snow she hadn’t been able to clear off making her behind cold. By the time she got herself situated on the window ledge, Grace was sneaking in with a panicked look clear on her face. “Would have been nice of you to warn me that Luke was home.”  
  
She smirked. “Wuss.”  
  
Her friend threw down her bag and shrugged off her heavier coat. “Watch it, princess, I have no qualms pushing you out of that window. Now scoot over.”  
  
Climbing up beside her, the two fit perfectly on the window ledge, their feet resting against the flat of the roof. Snow crunched under their shoes, loosening and sliding off onto the yard carpeted in white. The warm air from inside kept enough of the cold away so that there was only a lingering chill creeping into the holes of exposed skin.  
  
Joan’s hair fell loosely over her shoulders, straightening out in long curtains every time she moved to look at Grace. “Mom’s making hot chocolate for us. You want any?”  
  
“Sure.” Grace grinned, playing with her fish necklace while studying the bare tree’s natural icicle decorations. “It’s weird; I haven’t decorated a tree in ages. Hell, I have to go to Rove's just to watch any good Christmas specials.”  
  
A quiet snort. “Sorry, Rosenberg.”  
  
“Shut it, Summers.” Grace noticed something through the tree and nudged Joan a little. “Guess whose coming?”  
  
Joan squinted through the spidery limbs of the tree in front of them to find Adam walking with his head down towards her house. Warmth lifted from her stomach and into her cheeks. “I didn’t think he wanted to come!”  
  
Now it was Grace who gave her friend an amused snort. “Oh please, Girardi. When he heard you wanted us to come over and help decorate, he almost pissed himself. He and his dad don’t really do Christmas anymore, and you know my predicament – so you’re like, our normal niche.”  
  
“Uh.” Joan carefully began to pull herself back into her room. “I don’t think you could really consider us normal.”  
  
“Two parents, three kids, a nice house, and Hallmark holidays – do Rove and I look like we’re sitting down with our families and eating turkey dinner anytime soon?” Grace stuck half of her body through the window, waiting impatiently for Joan to climb all the way in.  
  
Suddenly, several snowballs came flying towards the window, hitting the place above Joan’s window. The sudden rain of cold snow startled the two so much that they fell back into the room. All anyone could heard as they disappeared were strangled yelps and a low grumble of mild cursing.

 

Three familiar voices rose up from the yard. “Great shot, Spaceboy. There’s hope for your kind yet.” Friedman was immediately heard yelping as something hit him. “Ah! Cold! What the hell was that for?! I’m on your side!”  
  
Both girls were up in a matter of minutes, the two already pulling on their jackets. “They are so dead.” Joan said, wrapping her scarf around her neck and grabbing her gloves before heading for the door.  
  
Grace leaned out of the window. “You’ve awakened the dragon, monkeys!”  
  
Friedman, Luke and Adam gave each other a worried glance before shrugging. “Give us your best shot, Grace!” Luke was smug, obviously enjoying the war-like challenge.  
  
Shutting the window, Grace turned just in time to catch the enormous water gun Joan threw her. It was one of the one’s she knew Kevin kept in his closet, and only drug out when Luke was asleep at his computer (it was one of the highlights of visiting her late at night). Joan pumped her gun up, looking a little more menacing than she already did.  
  
Running downstairs, they passed Kevin, who watched in fascination as the two stopped at the front door, saluted each other and then threw the door open. If this were the Wild West, the saloon would have already been dusted.


End file.
